


Dream Lover

by inevitablyfitzsimmons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), 君の名は。| Kimi no Na wa. | Your Name.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyswap, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inevitablyfitzsimmons/pseuds/inevitablyfitzsimmons
Summary: A Fitzsimmons Your Name/Kimi No Na Wa AU. They were always searching for something, for someone. This feeling had possessed them from that day, the day a star fell.





	1. Chapter 1

_“The day a star fell it was almost like seeing something out of a dream, nothing more or less than a breathtaking view.”_ Makoto Shinkai - _Your Name_

  
~*~

_Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep._

Fitz didn’t recognize that ringtone, but he was still on the edge of consciousness, so he let it continue.

_“Fitz. Fitz! Fitz! Don’t you remember me?”_

He woke with these words echoing in his head. Such a strange dream, a girl stood next to him in a packed underground carriage asking that insistently. The hustle of passengers pushed her away from his side. _“My name is Jemma!”_ The girl shouted, extending the cord she’d untied from her hair and Fitz instinctively reached for it and held on tightly.

Sitting up and shaking his head clear of the girl’s teary voice, he noticed his hair. It’s… long and straight? A dark brown color that fell just above his—

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He had cleavage? Glancing around, he could see various chemistry and biology textbooks stacked on a tidy work desk across from the full-sized bed he currently occupied. A full-length mirror caught his eye and he moved toward it, removing his nightgown as he walked. Staring back at him was definitely a girl’s body.

_I’m a girl?_

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he screamed.  
~*~ 

Jemma walked downstairs, Chemistry book in hand as she reviewed the material for today’s lessons. She moved about the kitchen not paying attention to her parents who were studying her with close eyes. Once she had made herself a plate, she sat at the table and finally looked up to see their stares. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Are you feeling okay today?” her mother asked.

“What? Of course, I’m fine,” she said scrunching up her face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Her parents shared a look. “Well yesterday you did seem a little… odd. Screaming all of a sudden like that,” her mother said gently.

Jemma’s brows knit further together. “Screaming? What? What do you—” She glanced over her father’s shoulder and noticed the morning news on the television. “Oh, Dad, turn it up for a minute, please.” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

He looked at the television and smiled. “Of course.”

“—now just a month away from a visit by a comet that appears only once every twelve hundred years. For a few days, the comet is expected to be visible to the naked eye. With the celestial show of the century around the corner, research institutes worldwide are scrambling in preparation to study it.” The text at the bottom of the screen read _Comet Arioald visible to the naked eye next month._

Jemma turned to her father excitedly, “Are you ready for it? Is your telescope back yet?”

“They should be finishing up the repairs any day now, it’ll be ready in time,” he said, chuckling.

“You two and that telescope…” her mother trailed off, grinning as she left the table to clean the kitchen. “Jemma, dear, you’d better hurry or you’ll be late.”

“Right, thanks Mum.” She rushed to finish her food, deposit her plate in the sink, and grab her backpack. “Bye Mum, bye Dad! Love you!”

She heard echoes of their _love you too’s_ as she walked out the door to the end of their driveway and headed towards University.

“Hey Jemma!” A voice called out from behind her. She turned to see her friends, Hunter pedaling his bicycle with Bobbi seated on the bike rack, a smile on her face. “Right, now get off.” Hunter gestured to Bobbi, frowning slightly.

“Oh no, I’m fine right here.” Bobbi said, her smirk growing.

“Come on, you’re heavy.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Oi! You said you’d get off when we ran into Jemma. We’re here, so off with you!”

Jemma laughed as Bobbi reluctantly got down from the bike. “You two get along so well.”

“No, we don’t!” They said simultaneously.

Bobbi and Hunter were a few years older than Jemma, but so were the rest of her classmates. They were, however, the only classmates who treated Jemma as a friend. Jemma had begun private tutoring at the age of 10, finished her undergrad degree at 13, gotten her first PhD two years ago, and now at 17 she was about to receive her second PhD. Everyone else at Uni either viewed her as a child or as an untouchable prodigy. It wasn’t so bad, Jemma thought, at least she had Bobbi and Hunter.

Hunter studied over Jemma. “You look normal today, did you get your parents to exorcise you?”

“What?” Jemma asked, bewildered.

Bobbi slapped Hunter on the arm with the back of her hand. “Shut up Hunter, she was probably just stressed,” she said. “What he means to say is that you didn’t seem right yesterday. Your hair wasn’t tied back and you didn’t have on your necklace.”

“Yeah, and you were acting really weird.” Hunter continued.

“You try fitting a whole PhD course load into two years and then you can say Jemma was acting weird.” Bobbi countered. “She’s probably just stressed out because she has to submit her thesis in a couple of months.”

“Yeah, that must be it.” Jemma said softly, but something that Bobbi said had caught her attention. She hadn't worn her necklace? Her grandmother had given it to her as a birthday gift last year and she’d worn it every day since then. And her hair hadn’t been tied back yesterday? Jemma always tied it up with a red cord as per her lab safety protocol. S is for scarlet is for safety.

Jemma shook her head to clear her thoughts. Surely it was just stress… never mind that she didn’t remember any of that happening.  
~*~ 

After their classes, they’d decided to meet up in the library to study while having a snack. Their favorite section was open and they collapsed into the seats with relief. It was a small alcove of four comfy armchairs tucked away in the far corner of the library.

Jemma reviewed notes from her Advanced Polymer Chemistry lecture while Bobbi helped Hunter with his Literature homework.

“ _'Please don’t ask me who goes there.'_   So in this case ‘Who goes there’ is a play on the word ‘twilight’.” Bobbi explained.

“But that makes no sense, twilight doesn’t sound anything like that.”

“It’s a Japanese poem, Hunter; it makes sense in the original language.” she said flatly. “Anyway, twilight is the time when it’s not quite day or night. A window where outlines blur and you can’t quite tell who is there. A time where you might meet something that isn’t human.”

Jemma tuned them out as she could hear Bobbi starting to use her flirting voice. She flipped back through the pages of her notebook when something caught her eye. There was large writing at the top of a page in what definitely wasn’t her handwriting. 

>   **_Who are you?_ **

  _What does that mean?_ Jemma thought. “Hunter, did you write this?” she asked, looking up to see his confused face.

“No, I couldn't sneak that notebook away from you if I tried. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Was I really that weird yesterday? Other than my hair and necklace, what exactly was it that made me seem so… odd?” Jemma finished lamely.

“Well your clothes didn’t really match at all, you mixed a bunch of different patterns together, it was almost dizzying. And it seemed like you forgot where everything was, we even had to help you find the labs.” Bobbi explained. “Don’t you remember?”

What did she remember about yesterday? There was… a boy’s face in a mirror. A small flat in... an unfamiliar city. And a… dog? A mutt of some kind, perhaps?

Jemma blinked, “I don’t know, it seems like I spent most of yesterday in a sort of dream. It’s probably just stress after all.” she decided, but Bobbi and Hunter still eyed her with skepticism. “Really I’m fine, much better today at least.” She looked at her phone. “I have to go now, I said I’d be home by 7, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Okay see you,” they said in unison and went back to studying, if only still a bit concerned for Jemma.  
~*~ 

Jemma walked along the pavement taking in the small town she lived in. She was right in the middle of nowhere, about a 40-minute drive from the nearest place that could be remotely considered a city. Aside from the small University she attended, her town consisted mostly of fields and farmland. A bus went through town only twice a day, the so-called labs at Uni were decades behind in technology, the library was woefully under-stocked in science texts, and there wasn’t even a proper cafe where Jemma could go to review her coursework (the small coffee shop on campus definitely didn’t count). She longed for the time after she graduated so that she could move to a big city and get to work in a real lab.

A car with its windows down drove by and Jemma caught a bit of the song that was playing.

— _small-town girl livin’ in a lonely world_ —

A small town girl, that’s exactly what she was. _If only I could be the other part of that song, the city boy. Huh, almost like_ —

Her thought disappeared as she reached her house. “Mum! Dad! I’m home!” she said.

“Hey Jemma.” her mum replied from the kitchen table looking up from the crossword puzzle she was completing. “How was the lab today?”

“Good, I made significant progress with my samples from the castle. I’ve never seen biological structures like those before, so it’s really quite fascinating to try and figure out what exactly it is.”

“To think you stumbled across that castle a few months ago and you’re still analyzing plant samples.” Her mother smiled wryly as she put down her pencil.

“Well the organism is plant based in structure because it has a cell wall and chloroplasts but it doesn’t have a centralized nucleus which is unheard of in eukaryotic cells as only proka--” she stopped herself as she recognized the lost look on her mother’s face. “I’m sorry, I got carried away again. You don’t understand most of this science talk, do you?”

“Sorry, dear, you know I don’t. But you must have people at the lab to talk science with.”

Jemma felt her heart sink. “Yeah, of course,” she said glancing down, her voice catching. “I think I’m going to work on my thesis for a while and then go to bed early.” She turned away from the table and started up the stairs toward her room.

Of course, she _should_ have someone to talk to about science, but truly she didn’t. Bobbi was okay seeing as she was working towards a Biology degree herself, but she could never seem to keep up with Jemma when she was talking science at her most excited rate. Was it really so much to want a friend that was her intellectual equal?

Jemma sat at her desk and worked on her thesis for a few hours before glancing at the clock. It read 10:37. She sighed. She hadn’t made much progress in the past hours, and yet she felt exhausted. _May as well get some sleep and put this weird day behind me_ , she thought.

Jemma tidied up her desk, changed into her nightgown, and climbed into bed. Her last conscious thought was longing for a friend who understood her completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma wakes up in an unfamiliar place and has an extraordinary day.

_Ding-ding-ding-ding. Ding-ding-ding-ding._

The short, fast ringtone wasn’t familiar to Jemma. Certainly it wasn’t what she had set the night before. Not yet wanting to open her eyes, she reached out her hand to silence the phone on her bedside table, however her hand was met only with air. She reached over further, rolling her body toward the edge of the bed in an attempt to get closer to the loud ringing. 

She tilted a bit too far and lost her position on the bed, dragging the sheet with her as she fell to the floor. She sat up, pulling the sheet off with one hand and rubbing the back of her head with the other. 

_Short curly hair? What—_

She blinked, taking in the unfamiliar bedroom she currently occupied. There was a small desk adjacent to the bed, and shelving all along the inside walls with stacks of Engineering books. Blueprints were pinned to every free expanse of the wall above the desk. A small chest of drawers took up the other corner of the cramped room next to a laundry basket that looked woefully unused considering the pile of clothes lying on the floor. Windows ran the length of the wall beside the bed scattering light across the room. 

“Where—?” Jemma thrust a hand to her throat. That definitely wasn’t her voice. She reached down to feel her chest but was met with nothing but a flat surface beneath a t-shirt. She was stopped from further investigating the male form she currently seemed to inhabit by a tickling sensation on her foot. She looked over to see [a small mutt](http://www.101dogbreeds.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Whoodle-Puppy-Images.jpg) licking away at her toes. 

Jemma’s heart swelled, she’d always wanted a dog but since her father was allergic she’d never been allowed one as a pet. _Dreaming, I must be dreaming_ , she thought. 

“Come here,” she whispered, tapping the floor beside her. The dog trotted over, basking in the affection she showed it. _Charles,_ its collar stated. “Well now, Charles,” she said picking him up, noting the Scottish accent that affected her voice, “let’s see what this dream has in store for me shall we?” 

Jemma left the room and made her way down the short hallway of the cramped flat. What hit her first was the smell, sausage sizzled on a griddle while pancakes were being flipped in a pan by a kind looking woman. She seemed to be older than Jemma’s parents by just a couple of years. 

“Finally managed to get up, dear?” The woman nodded in Jemma’s direction, a sweet smile on her face. “I was hoping the smell of pancakes would wake you.” 

“Um, yeah I’m… up now.” Jemma took a seat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen, setting Charles down on the ground. 

“Despite waking late, you’ve excellent timing; the pancakes are just now done.” She twisted around and placed a plate full of pancakes, sausages, and eggs in front of Jemma. She then began washing the pans and cleaning the kitchen. 

“Th-thanks.” Jemma said dubiously, taken aback by the sheer volume of food. _Oh well, this is a dream, isn’t it,_ she thought to herself and grabbed the silverware off of the place mat to start eating. She took a bite and the flavors exploded in her mouth. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed and began eating more enthusiastically. 

“Well, thank you,” she squinted her eyes, “But, it’s not like you don’t have this every week though, is it that much better today?” 

“Er, even better than I remember it.” Jemma said carefully. 

“That’s always good to hear,” she said with a smile. She removed the apron and set it on a chair, picked up her purse, and moved toward what Jemma assumed was the front door to the flat. “Alright I’m off to work. You hurry up now so you won’t be horribly late to school. Love you, dear.” 

“Love you too, mum.” Jemma said reflexively. She quickly ate the rest of the food that she could and wrapped up what remained when she was full. 

Jemma wandered around the flat until she found a small washroom. She rinsed her face in the sink and looked in the mirror, studying it closely. She appeared to be a Scottish boy about her own age in this dream. She turned her face this way and that, viewing his steel blue eyes and curly blond hair from all angles. _Not a bad face, I suppose._

Just then she heard a soft _ding_ emitting from the room she woke up in, and walked towards it with Charles trailing after her. She unlocked the phone to find that the boy had received a text. 

**_10:42 am Trip to Fitz_ **

**_Hey, you running late again? Come on, get over here!_**

Jemma quickly found some clothes in the chest of drawers that weren’t completely mismatched and changed, grabbing the backpack by the foot of the bed only to realize— 

“Oh no, I need to pee.”

~*~

She closed the front door with a huff and laid back against it. _That took far longer than it should have, what is wrong with boys’ bodies anyway?_ Rubbing her face, she looked up to see a sprawling city with a familiar bridge in the distance. 

“Glasgow.” Jemma whispered to herself. The city-scape left her breathless with its sheer potential. There was a kind of beauty in being surrounded by large buildings all around. “Now I just have to get to—” she rifled around in the boy’s backpack to find his wallet containing a school ID, “—the University of Glasgow, that can’t be too hard to find.”

~*~

An hour later and Jemma had only just set foot on campus. “Honestly why is the bus route so confusing?” She glanced at her phone and realized she’d likely missed Fitz’s morning classes. _Oh well, it’s not like there are any consequences to this dream._

“Fitz!” An arm was thrown over her shoulder and she looked to see a black man a few years older than her smiling down at her. “Look at you, showing up at noon. Come on, we already got food from the mess hall and Mack is waiting up on the roof, let’s go eat.” 

“Um, okay.” She noted his American accent and realized he must be an exchange student like Bobbi. She quietly extracted herself from beneath his arm and followed him toward stairs on the outside of a building. 

He called back from a few steps above her, “Ignore my text, did you?” 

“Oh, uh sorry… Trip. I didn’t mean to, it’s just that I sort of… got lost on the way here.” Jemma mumbled as they reached the top of the stairs and turned to see a bulky, good-natured guy sitting on a bench, who she could only assume was Mack. 

“You got lost? How did you manage to do that on the way to school?” Mack asked. 

“Well, a girl could get lost in a big city like—” 

“A girl?” 

Jemma coughed, realizing her mistake. “A, a guy I meant. And well, I, uh, took the wrong bus… twice.” she said sheepishly. 

Trip laughed and clapped a hand on her back. “Ha, and I thought we were the foreigners. Oh well, everyone has off days. But your next class starts before either of ours do, so get eating.” he said, unwrapping his own lunch in the process. 

“Oh, um…” Jemma hesitated, realizing she hadn’t brought anything. 

“You forgot it, didn’t you? Here, have half of mine.” Trip said, extending a sandwich wedge toward her. 

“Take some of mine too.” Mack handed her half of a chicken wrap and a napkin. 

“Thank you, that’s…” she trailed off, unable to convey her gratitude in words. They both grin at her and brush it off. 

“Anytime, man. You’d do the same if it were me.” Trip said. 

“Hey, you guys want to go to that café after classes again?” Mack asked. Jemma glanced in his direction, her eyes lighting up as she repeated his sentence in her mind. 

“Sure, sounds good. You up for it Fitz?” Trip looked Jemma’s way to find a small smile growing across her face. 

“A—a café?”

~*~

“What a nice dream.” Jemma murmured to herself as she took a picture of the fancy cappuccino and biscuit she’d ordered. She’d felt a little guilty spending three pounds on a cup of coffee before she’d remembered that this was a dream, and it was Leopold Fitz’s money anyway, so why should she be worried about how much to spend? 

Mack and Trip tilted their heads and glanced at her with confusion. Jemma simply sipped at her coffee and took in the café around them. She was on a cozy leather sofa against the front window, facing Trip and Mack, who shared the sofa opposite her. The small underground café had a consistent rock playlist and music themed menu items. It was all quite charming in Jemma’s opinion, and she wondered if this is what it felt like to have a regular place where you could go with friends and just unwind after school. Trip and Mack were proving to be quite wonderful companions. 

“So, how’s the thesis going? Ready to get that PhD yet?” Mack asked, breaking Jemma’s train of thought. 

“Oh, it’s coming along just fine, thanks. I’ll need to put in some more lab time, but it should be ready soon enough.” Jemma replied without thinking. 

“Lab time? You mean you’re gonna make a prototype too? That’s awesome, man.” Trip said. 

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m excited to finish—” She broke off feeling the vibration of Fitz’s phone in her pocket. “Oh no, it looks like my boss is mad at me because I’m late for work.” 

“Wait, you had a shift today? You’d better get going, hurry up!” Mack exclaimed. 

“Right, there’s just, ehm, one thing… Where do I work, again?”

~*~

“Excuse me, isn’t our food ready yet?”

"Fitz, go take table ten's order!"

“This isn’t what we asked for.”

“Do you have our check ready yet?

“Fitz, move! You’re in my way!”

“Fitz, do your job!”

“Fitz!” 

_When will this dream end?_

Jemma had been running around the ritzy Italian restaurant for three hours and she felt exhausted. Honestly, how do these people expect her to know any of this stuff, she’s not Fitz! The longer this day went on the less it felt like a dream and the more it felt like she’d just been dropped into his fully formed life for a day, and she was ready for it to end. 

“Hey, you. Waiter.” A degrading voice called from over Jemma’s shoulder. She backtracked to a table she’d just passed to see a man with a smarmy grin on his face pointing at the pizza she’d brought him earlier. “There’s a toothpick in our pizza. It woulda been bad if we’d eaten it, right?” He pointed to his equally slimy looking companion. “We’re just lucky that I noticed it. So, what’re you gonna do for me?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said what’re you gonna do about it?!” he demanded. 

“Um, I don’t think...” Jemma whispered. 

“What?!” He thumped the table with his knee causing other diners to hush their conversations and look in his direction. 

“Sir, is something wrong here?” A woman with an American accent pushed her aside, whispering “I’ve got this,” in her ear.

 Someone else grabbed Jemma’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen away from the scene. “You’re acting pretty weird today, Fitz, you know that?” he said concernedly. 

“Sorry.” Jemma mumbled, watching the kind woman deal with the thug from the kitchen window. She bowed her head and left after seemingly placating him. Jemma kept watching for a moment but was then hustled back into work.

~*~

Later that night as they were cleaning the restaurant, Jemma walked over to the table the woman was cleaning. 

“I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know what to do, and he was so rude, and I don’t even think we have toothpicks here so he must have planted it himself but I knew that I couldn’t just accuse him of that, so I’m afraid that I just mucked it all up and I really am so sor—” 

“Whoa, slow down there, Fitz. That’s the most I think you’ve ever spoken to me before.” She adjusted her bangs as she rolled her eyes. “That guy was totally full of it, but the customer is always right, so I did what he wanted and comped their meal. I hate doing that for such an asshole, but it’s company protocol,” she huffed as she finished wiping down the table. She straightened up and looked at Jemma, her eyes softening sympathetically. “You haven’t had a great day, have you?” 

Jemma felt a surge of gratitude for the young woman. _Daisy_ , her name-tag read. “No, I haven’t. I guess it's not that hard to tell, huh?” 

“It’s alright, Fitz. We all have these days,” she smiled at Jemma. 

Another waitress interrupted them suddenly. “Daisy, your skirt!” 

They both looked down to see that there was a rough horizontal cut on Daisy’s skirt towards the bottom of her thigh. Daisy swore under her breath and quickly twisted her apron around to cover the tear. 

“Are you okay?”

“Did someone harass you?”

“Was it that one jerk?”

“Do you remember what he looked like?” 

Daisy seemed overwhelmed by all the attention, her shoulders trembled slightly and there were pinpricks of tears at the corners of her eyes. 

Jemma realized then that it was her turn to do the rescuing. She quickly ran to the small office at the side of the kitchen and rifled through the drawers of the desk. _Come on, come on. There has to be… Yes!_ She ran back to Daisy and whispered in her ear, “I can fix that if you’d like.” She waited for Daisy’s nod of acceptance, grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her into the office. “Alright, take off your skirt.” 

“What?!” 

“I—sorry,” she said realizing how she’d sounded. “I just meant I can’t sew it back up with you still in it.” Jemma said, holding up the sewing kit she had found. “And I’ll turn around of course,” she added twisting to face the door. 

“Okay, hang on.” Jemma heard the zipper come undone and some other rustling of clothes before Daisy tapped her on the shoulder. “You can turn around now.” Daisy had found a jacket to wrap around her waist while Jemma worked. She hopped up to sit on the desk as Jemma took the chair and began threading the needle. 

“It’ll just be a couple of minutes, I promise.” Jemma reassured her. 

“That’s fine… I guess it’s my turn to be thanking you now, huh?” She smiled softly at Jemma’s chuckle. “So, Fitz, how’d you learn to sew?” Daisy asked. 

“Oh, my mum taught me when I was younger.” Jemma said. 

“That makes sense. She came by once to bring you your wallet remember? She seemed really nice.” 

“Yeah, she’s great.” Jemma said, realizing she was talking about both her own mother and Fitz’s at the same time. She switched colors of thread to continue the design she was planning. They kept some light conversation for a few minutes until Jemma finally straightened up and put the needle down. “Finished; there you are.” 

Daisy took the skirt from Jemma’s hands and looked over her quick work. The design she’d made was a small patch of grass with a single daisy sprouting from the middle. “No way, this is awesome, Fitz!” 

“Really, you like it?” 

“For sure, it’s way cuter than before. You’re a lot different than I thought, Fitz. I was worried about you earlier, you’re always so quick to fight.” Daisy looked her over as if trying to reconcile Jemma’s actions as Fitz with her memories of Fitz’s previous ones. 

“Thanks again. For earlier, I mean; you really saved me.” Jemma said steering the conversation away from her behavior. 

“Of course, Fitz. What are coworkers for?” Her smile was as warm as the sun, and when Jemma beamed back, it grew even brighter.

~*~

After taking the subway back to Fitz’s flat, Jemma threw herself onto Fitz’s bed reminiscing about her long, strange dream. She’d never before dreamed in such rich detail before; she could still smell pasta on her clothes. The hustle and bustle of passersby still rang in her ears. The moonlight shone through Fitz’s windows to illuminate the intricate details of the blueprints hung carefully on his walls. Charles’ stomach rose and fell underneath her fingertips as she rubbed his belly, pulsing with breath and life. 

Jemma picked up Fitz’s phone, distracting herself from the ramifications of those thoughts. She scrolled through his homepages to find a journal app, tapping it with her thumb. 

**[8/3 Ate at Monkey cafe with Trip and Mack.] [7/3 Cinema with Mack.] [5/3 Engineering Tour.] [3/3 Payday!]**

“Wow, he’s really thorough.” Jemma mused to herself. She pressed the home button and navigated to the camera roll. Most of the photos were gadgets in various states of completion, some blueprints, and even a few landscapes. After that he had quite a few of himself with Mack and Trip hanging out at different places: eating at the café, studying in a library, queueing up for a movie. 

She swiped through his photos until one in particular caught her eye. It was Daisy, a seemingly candid shot of her back as she wiped down the restaurant’s window. In the next picture she must’ve noticed Fitz, turned to face the camera, and winked while posing with a peace sign. 

“Hmm, unrequited crush, maybe?” she rolled over onto her side as she continued swiping through the photos. _It’s a shame_ , Jemma thought, _Daisy’s really nice and Fitz seems like a good guy._

She shook her head from the thought, and decided to go back to his journal app and type out her day. She tried to capture all of it, waking late, going to the café with his friends, making a lot of mistakes at work, and finally on the way home, walking to the subway station with Daisy after fixing her skirt. 

>   _Who are you?_

The scribbled words from her notebook popped into Jemma’s head as she yawned. She got up, taking care not to rustle Charles, crossed to Fitz’s desk and grabbed a felt pen. Turning her left hand palm up she wrote: 

>   _Jemma_

 She yawned again and crawled back into Fitz’s bed, shutting her eyes after the strange, thrilling day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to @hemnalini from tumblr for beta-ing this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> This was my prompt to memorizingthedigitsofpi for her incredible Fitzsimmons Fic-a-Thon. Thank you so much for being a cheerleader throughout this whole process and making the beautiful graphic. 
> 
> I never imagined it would make it so far in the fic-a-thon, or that I would pick it up when it lost, but it's the kind of story I felt had to be shared. I can't describe how much I love the movie "Your Name". It is truly a work of art and I recommend you watch it if you ever get the chance.


End file.
